How Far Is Too Far Anymore?
by baristababy
Summary: Time to apply for college is quickly approaching and Derek is finding different means to help get him the grades he needs that isn't studying. Will Casey be there to save him from himself when he gets too deep or will it take a miracle of another kind?
1. Do work, son

**Authors Note: **I love hot chocolate! This is my first story on this particular website and my first ever attempt at a _Life With Derek_ saga. So let me know what you think. Feedback is always appreciated. 

**Disclaimer:**These are not my characters, but those that belong to the show _Life With Derek. _I used them with care, or at least I tried.

Looking up at the clock, Derek wished there was something he could do to make the last minutes go by faster so he could get out of this prison insane individuals like to call school. A test in his first block and a speech in his fourth, to say the least, the eldest Venturi had quite the long and stressful day. Even when he blanked on half of the answers for his French exam he had studied all night for, Derek had other things on his mind that he felt were more important and worthy of his focus.

After last practice his coach pulled him aside and asked about his college plans and whether financial aid would be an issue. It wasn't that his family was by any means poor, but having two kids leaving for college at the same time would definitely put a major dent in any person's pocket. The sixteen-year-olds' mind had been set on getting a scholarship to a good university ever since he made captain his sophomore year, but to his chagrin, he knew they would not base his admission to their school on pure hockey talent alone. Coach Pearson advised Derek to try and find a way to improve his grade point average by the end of this junior year.

'_Once you get those grades of yours' up, Venturi, those big university recruiters will start cross-checking each other into the boards at the chance of chatting you up.'_

Coach Pearson's words were plaguing his thoughts, consuming all of his attention as he grabbed what books he needed from his locker for homework that night. If Derek had forgotten something, it was unlikely he would recall unless someone abruptly brought him out from his reverie. Heading toward the parking lot the sandy-haired male heard an all too familiar voice of the feminine persuasion just as he was putting his key in the ignition. With an exasperated sigh, he adjusted his position in the seat so he was leaning out of the car, his head peering around the door only to witness Casey jogging to close the gap between them. Raising an inquisitive brow, he mused in a sardonic tone, "May I help you?"

Groaning, Casey rolled her eyes at her step-brother's question, fully aware that he knew what she wanted from him.

"Did you forget already or were you trying to make a clean break?" At this Derek feigned pondering his options before giving her a simple shrug, a smirk plastered upon his features.

She narrowed her eyes at his gesture, but continued her train of thought. "George had to borrow my car this morning so he and his colleagues could carpool to court…I was there when he told you to give me a ride home. He even made you repeat what he said to make sure you were listening."

"Is that what he was rambling about this morning? Must have slipped my mind…"

Closing his own door, he reached across the center console and lifted his hockey bag and threw it into the backseat so Casey could slide in.

"C'mon, Princess. The faster you get in the car the less time people have to see me associating with you."

Casey just glared at Derek, fastening her seat belt as he revved up 'The Prince'. Leaning forward, Casey started adjusting the dial on the radio in hopes of finding some decent music. Pulling out of the parking lot, Derek looked at Casey before turning onto the main road that was but a few blocks from their home.

"What do you think you are doing, McDonald?" A swift swat to her hand followed his question, "My car. My music. No girly, feminist, bra-burning…or whatever the hell that crap it is you listen to allowed in here."

Adding in an undertone, he continued. "Soundtrack to Lifetime movies, angst-ridden,"

"Der-ek! You're such a prick." Casey interrupted (like always!).

"At least I'm not a bitch." He retorted in a sing-song voice, smirking to himself, because he loved how easy it was to get under her skin.

Casey resigned to sit back in her seat, not in the mood to get smacked over a radio station. "I don't know why I even try anymore- once an asshole, always an asshole." She drawled, turning her head slightly so she could look at said 'asshole'.

"That's Saint Asshole to you." He corrected her just as they pulled into their driveway. "Now get out. I'm tired of playing chauffeur for you."

In all honesty, Derek could care less about driving her home; it wasn't like they didn't live in the same house. The McDonald's had officially invaded the Venturi household for just over a year now, and though he would never admit it to anyone, especially Casey, she was starting to rub off on him. In no way had he transformed from professional slacker/procrastinator to a grade-grubbing Klutzilla keener, but he started to try harder in his classes and push himself more by viewing his academics as a competition between himself and his step-sister. And it had worked to a point, but he knew as long as his study skills remained poor that his infamous nickname, Triple D, would not just refer to his skills with the ladies but his marks as well.

He watched Casey storm inside, pulling his back pack into his lap but not moving to get out of the car quite yet. Waiting until he heard the front door slam shut, Derek lifted the flap on his satchel, digging to the bottom where he had hidden a certain parcel that had arrived in the mail yesterday that definitely was not meant for him. Glancing up toward the house again, he was cautious before he proceeded to peer inside the package to see a sole prescription bottle staring back up at him in all of its orange, child-safety lock glory. Derek knew that he could just as easily ask Casey to help him study since they had much of the same classes together, but he would never demean himself to admit he needed the help, especially not to Casey.

So this was the only alternative he could think of besides cheating- and he already knew how well that seemed to work for him. I mean, he knew how to do it without getting caught, but ever since helping Casey cheat on their math exam, he wasn't really to risk it again.

Biting his bottom lip, he gathered up his resolve and twisted the cap off the bottle, letting three capsules of Marti's A.D.D. medicine fall into his free hand. Closing the cap, Derek stuffed the bottle at the very bottom of his satchel. Tilting his head back, he swallowed the amphetamines dry, pushing whatever guilt he was feeling about using his precious Smarti's medicine to the back and out of his mind.

"Ralph, I hope for your sake this will work."

Taking one glance inside of the Prince, Derek made sure that he had all of his belongings, including his hockey equipment, before locking up the car- if you could call it that- he had received as a sixteenth birthday present from his father a few months before. Slinging his large duffel over his shoulder, Derek treaded quickly up the driveway to the front door, jiggling the handle to his house. Groaning, he fished his keys back out of his pocket to unlock the house. Casey could be overly dramatic too much of the time, and locking him out when she clearly knew he would be following her into the house was just another one of those examples.

Letting the heavy bag fall from his shoulder with a thud, he looked over his shoulder at Casey who had already made herself comfortable on the couch with the remote, a victorious smile curling into the corner of her lips as she looked up at her step brother.

"Real mature, Case," He chided dryly, not waiting for her smart aleck remark as he made his way up to his room.

Throwing open the door, the sixteen-year-old made an easy task of tossing his satchel onto his bed before plopping down beside it. Feeling underneath of his body, Derek found the remote to his stereo under his leg, turning on the music loud, letting it fill his room. Folding back the lapel, he quickly glanced at the door before he removed Marti's medication from within its depths. Pushing himself up so he was resting against the headboard, Derek set to work examining the bottle and the contents in it.

Mumbling under his breath quietly, he read aloud to himself the instructions on the bottle of her prescription, noticing that the dosage he had taken was different than that which was prescribed to his baby sister. With a shrug, he really did not let it bother him all that much since he was much bigger than his Smarti and could probably handle more of the pills in one dose than she could.

Reaching across his bed, Derek stretched his body out, grasping his portable phone off of the receiver. Letting his fingers do the work, his trusty digits started to dial a number that had been ingrained in his memory for longer than he could remember. About to bring the phone to his ear, he decided at the last minute that he was no longer up to talking to Sam and that a sandwich sounded like a much better alternative.

Rolling himself off of the bed, Derek realized that about a half hour had passed since he had taken the pills and could tell they were starting to kick in. In all honestly, he did not feel all that different except more focused. Walking down the stairs, he avoided talking to his step sister and went straight to the kitchen.

Perusing the refrigerator, Derek looked for the usual necessities he needed for his well-deserved snack. Grabbing the turkey, lettuce, cheese, tomatoes and mustard, Venturi set to work on his masterpiece of a sandwich, smiling proudly down at his finished product.

Taking a bite, he smirked mid-chew and found his way to his favorite recliner, falling back into it. Without a second thought, Derek snatched the remote from Casey and flipped the channel to a hockey game that had aired a few days previous.

"What the hell, Derek? I happened to be watching something before you rudely interrupted." She remarked, the annoyance quite apparent in her tone.

Shrugging his shoulders, he gave her a passive expression. "You would think I might care, but…I don't."

His stomach suddenly growled, but not in hunger. Pausing for a moment, it dawned on him that he really was no longer that hungry anymore. It made sense though, Ralph had explained to him that in the first two weeks of taking the medication that his eating habits might change dramatically and his appetite would severely decrease. Grimacing, he looked down at his sandwich sadly before moving his attention to Casey. Lifting the plate, he pushed it toward Casey, a defeated expression gracing his features.

"What are you doing…wait, are you trying to say that Derek Venturi is actually giving up food?" Dumbfounded by the act, Casey just continued to stare at her step brother in disbelief. "I never thought I'd see the day."

"Ah, shuddup. I had a big lunch." He explained by way of excuse, a rather lame excuse at that.

About to point out otherwise, Casey decided just to drop the topic. It was bound to happen one day- Derek Venturi had finally eaten himself to full capacity. She just never thought she would bare witness to the event in her own lifetime. In her opinion, she had no idea how her parents could afford to satiate his appetite- and then when Sam and Ralph came over and raided the refrigerator and pantry with Derek, well let's just say the boys made easy work of cleaning the family out to Mother Hubbard status.

Looking at the sandwich once more with longing, he decided he could not sit still any longer. Making quick work of his condition, Derek leaped out of his recliner haphazardly. Eyes wide, he scanned the living room for something to keep his attention. Feeling energy burst through him, he had no idea what to do with him self, and it was apparent by his facial expression.

Casey noticed the change in her normally sluggish step-brother and quirked a shapely brow in his direction. "Lost in thought, huh? I know it's a new experience for you and all, having thoughts and what not, but it was bound to occur for you one day."

Smirking to herself at her own wit, she was about to further add when she was abruptly cut off, "There's something I need to do- but I don't know what it is." Almost frantic now, the adrenaline was pumping through his veins and he desperately needed to find something to consume his attention and calm him down. He didn't want to make Casey worry- something she was extremely good at doing, even when it came to Derek, though she would rarely admit to it.

"Um, yeah. I'm going to go to Ralph's now, so uhh…tell Dad and Nora I probably won't be back for dinner and to just leave it in the fridge for me." Scampering to the door, he grabbed his trusty leather jacket from the hanger and nodded to his step-sibling. "Don't wait up for me." And with a painted on smirk, he left the house, slamming the door shut behind him- remote still in hand.

"By the way," He remarked, opening up the door. "Think fast!" Throwing the remote, possibly aiming for her head yet saddened when it did not make contact.


	2. Am I on crack?

Stepping out of the 'Prince', Derek looked up the driveway to the house that lay before him. It was not just any house, but Ralph's house, and it was humongous. While Derek loved the kid, thought he was hilarious and a good drummer for 'D-Rock' he just never could understand how someone with parents that were so intelligent, one was a neurosurgeon for crying out loud, could be so dumb! But alas, Ralph was Ralph…and he was a good drummer in D-rock.

Why was he so full of energy? It was crazy, he honestly felt like he could run for twenty miles, take a ten minute break to scope out the ladies in the park, and run another twenty more. Now would he intend on testing his theory after he left Ralph's house? Probably not, but he might find time to squeeze in some girl watching, because what red-blooded, hormone-induced male wouldn't?

Advancing toward Ralph's house, he stopped when he reached the doorway, pondering whether to knock or just to go right in. Grasping the door knob, he turned it counter-clockwise until he heard a soft click, pushing the door open gingerly. Wiping his feet on the doormat, he slipped off his shoes and kicked them off to the side so they would not get in someone's way upon entering. Now to those of you who know Derek Venturi this may seem like a nice, respectable gesture which is characteristically uncommon for him, but take note. Although, he may seem the type to not possess any form of manners whatsoever, what few he does have in his arsenal are used toward his friends' parents. I mean, if it takes a little manners to get home-cooked meals (unlike the inedible ones Nora passes off as 'cuisine') than it is worth the effort.

"Honey, I'm home!" The blonde bellowed from the bottom of the stairwell, his signature smirk intact.

"Is that you, Derek?" A voice of the feminine persuasion inquired sweetly from the kitchen, which was situated just around the corner from the living room.

"Mama P!" He responded back enthusiastically, bounding into the kitchen with ease thanks to all of his extra energy.

Mama Papadopoulos, or Mama P for short, had always been like a second mom to Derek. For example, when his dad was going through the divorce a few years ago she had taken him under her wing or when one of his parents could not leave work to come to one his hockey games, Derek could count on Mama P to be smiling proudly down at him from the stands. He never was one to bring up past issues, especially those that dealt with emotions and feelings, but he knew and could only hope that she knew, that Derek would always be eternally grateful to the woman.

Now Derek loved Ralph in the most platonic way possible, like another brother, but boys will be boys and fights have and always will occur between friends. But come hell or high water, Derek has always been one to quickly amend the rifts because the longer it takes for the two to start talking and get over whatever the petty issue, the less of his absolute favorite Mama P snicker-doodles were in his stomach.

Derek swooped in for a hug, inhaling the sweet, sweet aroma that permeated the kitchen and his senses. _"Just in time," _he thought to himself, a sense of pride swelling in his belly. The cookies that lay on the baking sheet were still cooling off, but that had never stopped him before. Despite his stomach's protests, Derek swiped a cookie from the tray and took a hearty bite. "Ra-ugph upsfairs?" He asked her through a mouthful of chocolate chip cookie, giving her a sheepish smile once he swallowed the big bite.

Swatting him on the arm, her maternal instincts kicked into gear. "Don't chew with your mouth open, ya' brat. And yes, he's up in his room doing Lord only knows what, but that's Ralph, I guess. Bless his soul, he may not have his father's brain but at least he got his momma's personality and good looks." She laughed at her comment, winking cheekily at Derek, before giving him a little butt bump with her side to scoot him on along.

Derek could not help but laugh as well, "You're not lying, Mama P. You're not lying." At the bump, he rolled his eyes playfully, and started to head toward the stairs before stopping. Pumping his arms at his side, he started running backwards into the kitchen, reaching his hand out to swoop up about five more cookies. Before he had completely gotten up the stairs, he heard Mrs. Papadopoulos from the kitchen.

"Good seeing you, D. Say hello to the family for me and promise me just one thing, please…" She paused for added effect, cocking her head to the side slightly, her arms akimbo. "Make good choices."

For most teenagers, her motherly concern and sentiments may have caused them to stop in their tracks and fumble for words if in Derek's situation, being on prescription drugs that were actually his little sister's, but Derek kept up the façade that he was anything but phased. Poking his head around the railing, he held out his arm and sent Mama P a 'thumbs up' before replying smoothly, "Always, Mama P, always."

Throwing the door open to Ralph's room with ease, he tossed two of the five cookies to Ralph then proceeded to flop unceremoniously down onto his friend's bed. "God I love your mom's cookies, dude."

Ralph, who was sitting at his computer rocking out with his head phones on, had been shaken from his D-Rock fantasy (so Derek figured) by cookies hitting him in the chest. Deducing that the movement of Derek's lips most likely meant he was trying to tell him something, Ralph slid his head phones down so they rest around his neck. "Sorry man, I was listening to Enya. What did you say, dude?"

Stretching his arms out behind him, Derek attempted to get comfortable, but was having little luck. Turning on his side, then his other side, and then back to the other side again, the teen groaned out in frustration. "Your mom's cookies, I freaking love-" Suddenly the sixteen-year-old paused his train of thought, shooting straight up into a sitting position. Placing his hands on Ralph's bed as he leaned ever closer to his buddy, an expression of confusion sprinkled with shock and disgust graced his handsome features.

"Enya dude, _really_?" He asked incredulously, still in a state of disbelief.

"Amanda likes it and thought since were dating that we should like similar things. I know it sounds lame, man, but hey I kinda' like it. It's…it's soothing." He nodded with satisfaction, content with his appropriate word selection.

"Yeah, whatever dude." Hopping up off the bed, Derek started to pace, unable to sit still any longer and yearning for some sort of activity that would prove more distracting than sitting and talking to his _oh-so_ whipped friend. "I mean Sally likes playing princess with Marti, but just because my girlfriend is into it, doesn't mean I have to dress up like one too."

"But wait, D, I thought you told me that you totally dressed up like a witch with a broom and everything at Marti's 8th birthday party," Ralph interjected quizzically, his eyes averting to his friend to watch his response.

"First off, I was not a witch, I was Merlin. And secondly, I had an awesome staff and…you know what, you made me lose my train of thought. Argh." Grabbing his head in his hands, his fingers snaked up into his hair and tugged. Looking back up at Ralph, he sighed and continued with exasperation, "My point is you're still lame- and possibly a little gay. Yes, yes, you are definitely a little more homo. I don't care how good her pizza bagels are- no girlfriend is worth suffering through listening to Enya." Cocking his head to the side, he looked pensive before he continued his babbling. "Unless she puts out. Maybe, I mean well…uhm. Yeah, if she puts out, and she's good. If she sucks then that's a negative Ghost Rider," He emphasized his last point with a fervent flourish of his hand.

"But Ralph, I need to talk to you about something other than your homo-ness." Walking toward the door, Derek poked his head out and looked up and down the hallway to see if anyone was nearby. Both of the doors to Ralph's little sisters' rooms were slightly ajar, but both seemed too preoccupied with what they were doing to be bothered by Derek and Ralph. Recoiling back into the room, he turned the knob in his hand and pushed the door closed careful to not make any noise. His grip still fastened to the handle, he stood up stock straight and peered across the room at his friend, anxiety, adrenaline and who knows what else pumping through his veins. "Is this normal?"

"Is what normal? You and me, hanging out while eating my mom's cookies? Ugh, yah, we've been doing the same thing almost everyday since kindergarten. Wait, I mean when I was in kindergarten and you were in first grade…" He trailed off puzzled and Derek could see the cogs in Ralph's brain working hard, poor guy.

Shaking his head, he grunted with annoyance. "No you idiot," He stopped, moving from the door and over to the edge of Ralph's bed, leaning forward to detract the possibility of being overheard by one of his little sisters in the other room. "What I mean is, is this normal behavior for taking Ritalin? I'm antsy and I'm a little anxious, I can't even look at food without my stomach lurching in unease. Not to mention I can't kick back and chill like I always do, you know act lazy? I actually feel like going for a seven mile run which I haven't done since pre-season and my thoughts are racing. _And_…" He drew this out for added dramatic effect, "I feel I could actually get work done right now for school instead of stealing Casey's while she is asleep and copying her answers. This can't be normal, right?" He averted his attention now to the floor, his elbows on his knees and his hands supporting his head. Running his fingers through his tousled hair in vexation, he moaned before sending Ralph a helpless look. "Did I mention I'm not hungry?"

Sitting back in his chair, Ralph was in awe of the copious amount of symptoms Derek was rambling off to him. Once the drummer assumed his friend was finished, he nodded sagely. "I see young Paduan, but you'll need to suck it up for now. You're gonna' be like this the first few times, but trust me, once you sit down and set yourself to a task you'll become completely absorbed by it and time will just fly by. You just have to force yourself to be motivated enough to commit to doing something, like that English paper due tomorrow, and you'll get it done- no prob, dude. Scout's honor." He added the last part with his hand, palm facing out, in the air and his other hand across his heart. "I swear, dude, this stuff works wonders."

Nodding repeatedly at Ralph's words of advice, Derek allowed himself to calm down a bit. Straightening back up on the bed, he gave one final nod, indicating he was sufficiently satisfied with all that Ralph had said and felt he knew what his next move needed to be. "So, I should probably head on home then and get my homework done and study. Thanks, bro." Standing up, he bent forward and stretched his arm out in Ralph's direction, giving him a pound. "See ya' later."

Heading out the door, Venturi couldn't help but second guess his earlier statement and decision about the whole 'do your homework and study thing'. It was definitely not his style, something that practically oozed from the sixteen-year-old (and don't you forget it either!) Turning on his heel, he poked his head in Ralph's room and a smirk toyed at the corner of his lips. "You down for some Baberaider?"

"Do bears crap in the woods, D?"

"Not if they live in the zoo," Derek contended poignantly.

"Oh," The other teen uttered, obviously now deep in thought. "I never thought about that."

"Pass over the controller and stop thinking so hard. Don't want to hurt yourself before I kick your ass in some Baberaider."

"I think I already did." Holding his head, fingers rubbing into his temples, he hissed in pain, "Ow, brain freeze."


	3. Tangent of Hacking Up Spleens

"Dude, if I could make a perfect woman, D, she would totally have Angelina Jolie's lips, Baberaider's rack, and Casey's ass." Ralph admitted randomly, taking his eyes off the screen to watch his friend's reaction to his musings.

"Yeah, I totally would dig th-," eyes widening suddenly, Ralph's words had finally filtered into Derek's brain and he was astounded. I mean, did his friend really just go there?!

Coughing violently, Derek dropped the controller and out of the corner of his eye saw his babe run into the fiery lava. Leaning forward, Derek did his best to control his hacking fit but was struggling futilely. Ralph, seeing his friend in need hit pause on the game before setting the controller down beside him. Reaching over to Derek, he gave him a few slaps on his back, trying to be helpful, but unlike his father, Ralph's healing powers were practically non-existent.

Straightening back up, Derek's eyes were watering from the assault on his lungs and he stared at his friend in disbelief. "Dude, hello? That is my step-sister you're talking about. Do I need to refresh your memory on guy-code like I did with Sammy? I mean, seriously dude…I think I just coughed up a spleen or something." And as you can tell, Derek is not the brightest in the anatomy department either.

"Sorry, man," Ralph replied genuinely, truly sounding sincere in his apology before he continued, "But I can't help it. I mean her butt is so…so…firm and tight from all that whirling around that she does."

Derek cut him off, "Whirling around, Ralph? You mean dancing?"

"Yeah, yeah. Exactly. But if you weren't her step-brother you know you would totally try to hit that."

"Ugh, dude. Never again…" At that thought, Derek shook his head fervently, trying to rid the idea from his brain of Casey actually being attractive. I mean, yes, they were not blood-related, and technically they did not grow up together, but still…Klutzilla, attractive? He really needed to get out of there before his brain went into overload- it was not used to working this hard. "_Must be the medicine,"_ he thought to himself off-handedly.

Standing up, he reached his hand out to give Ralph a pound before grabbing his leather jacket off the recliner beside the couch. "You have officially lost your speaking privileges for the rest of the night, bro. Ugh," He shuddered yet again as a flash of Casey fluttered through his head, dressed in a slinky night gown, but still rocking her bunny slippers.

Heading to the door, Derek hollered toward the kitchen as he slipped on his jacket, "Mama P!" He bellowed, grinning widely, "I love you like a fat kid loves cake…especially when you are the one baking it."

Opening the door, he was about to close it behind him when he heard a response echoing from the kitchen, "You're always welcome here, pumpkin, but just remember what I told you. Now scoot your booty home, and make momma proud."

"I wouldn't dream of doing anything but..."

Derek pulled up into the driveway of his house fifteen minutes later, turning the key in the ignition toward him before checking the back seat of the Prince to see if he had left anything that he had needed for the night inside his car. Content that everything he would need was already upstairs in his room, he opened the car door and kicked it shut behind him, keys twirling idly between his fingers. Treading toward the doorstep, he could hear voices, shrill voices at that, from inside the house and he could not help but smirk. He could only hope that one of his siblings was tormenting the eldest female for whatever reason, because an irritated Casey always made for a happy Derek.

"Hello family," He announced upon entering the crazy house, sliding his shoes off of his feet and kicking them toward the wall, hanging his jacket up on the coat rack by the door. Scanning the room with his brown eyes, he noticed Edwin running around the dining room table, panting in a manner that Derek could only assume that he was out of breath, Casey hot on his tail. In his hand was a small pink book with an even tinier locket on the side, obviously Casey's diary. Suddenly he saw Lizzie creeping up on her stepbrother from behind and Derek quickly alerted his brother to the oncoming assault.

"Dude, sister at six o'clock! Duck and cover!" Just as the words left his mouth, Lizzie had jumped on Edwin's back, screaming, "Give it back you jerk, it's not yours! If you don't give it back, ugh!" She squirmed, trying to reach over his back to wrestle the book from his grasps, "I'm going to call Molly Moscavitz and rat you out."

It didn't take more than that for the younger Venturi male to succumb to the two MacDonald's, tossing the book up into the air and shaking his sister off of his back in defeat. Casey quickly lunged for the diary, once in her grasp she smacked Edwin over the head with it. "Pipsqueak!"

Rolling his eyes, Derek heard his parents in the kitchen, completely oblivious to the on-goings in the room over finishing up with prepping dinner. He could only hope that Nora was the chef tonight, because his dad's style of cuisine was simply inedible; suffice it to say Nora's was not all that much better. Granted, he was not surprised that the two had ignored the sibling battle, after two years of living in the house as a blended family, they had finally learned how to tune the kids out when they became rowdy- only stepping in when matters seemed absolutely necessary.

Stomach growling, but not out of hunger, Derek lifted his shirt slightly to rub his abdomen. Scrunching up his nose, he decided he was not all that hungry, which he knew he would have to play off else the family would become highly concerned.

"Dinner's ready!" His father announced, bringing the casserole dish out into the dining room, placing it in the middle of the table as the entire family became situated at the large table. His father looked up at his oldest son expectantly, surprised he had not already raced into his chair, silverware in both hands and at the ready. "I made your favorite, Der, breakfast for dinner. So we've got chocolate-chip pancakes and even a little bit of vanilla ice cream."

George was cut off as Marti squealed with delight, "Ice cream, daddy? You're the bestest! C'mon Smerek before it all melts!" She continued sweetly, staring across the room at her older brother who already had one foot on the bottom stairwell, beckoning him to the table with her small hand.

"I don't think I'm going to join you, I'm not hungry. But thanks…save some for me later, Smarti?" He inquired of his baby sister, sending her a smile. But the smile was not returned because every member of the Venturi/MacDonald clan wore matching expressions of shock and horror.

"Derek- not hungry?" Lizzie started in disbelief before Edwin burst in, "Has the sky opened up like Chicken Little foresaw?" George's eyes had widened to the size of dinner saucers, sitting in utter confusion at the idea of his son not only passing on a meal, but his favorite dinner- well breakfast. But before he could speak his mind, Nora jumped up from the table and strode across the room, placing her hand on her eldest step-son's forehead. "You don't feel warm, Derek? Are you sure you can't eat a little bit?"

Shaking his head, he gave his step-mom a gracious smile before nodding his head in dissent. His family was not the only ones in a state of disbelief; Derek was rather astounded himself, though he did his best to not let it show. The prospect of Derek not being hungry was equivalent to Wayne Gretzky or Gordie Howe missing a penalty shot with Marti in the goalie box- it just wasn't conceivable, let alone possible.

Quickly thinking of a lie, he shrugged his shoulders before adding, "Mama P fed me earlier, and well, you know how easy it is to fill up on her cooking. I mean, no offense dad…Nora. I'm gonna head upstairs and do some work. Later," And with that he headed up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Stopping at the bathroom, Derek shut the door behind him before stepping over to the sink. Turning on the tap, he let the water run for a moment before it was warm and cupped his hands beneath the spigot, splashing his face several times. Blinking a few times, Derek ran his hands through his hair, lifting his gaze up to stare at his reflection in the mirror, a slightly frenzied expression gracing his features.

It had been about four hours since he had taken Marti's pills and the effects were still going strong. He felt jittery and slightly frantic and luckily he had escaped from his family before his façade had failed him. It was one thing for him to admit to not being hungry, and then adding to the equation abnormal behavior such as anxiety on top of that, he would certainly have them more than skeptical and/or concerned. His younger siblings, Lizzie and Edwin, were just as bad as Emily Davis when it came to snooping and that was the last thing he needed them doing.

Resigning himself that he would just ride out the effects of the Ritalin, he figured the least he could do was get some studying done while it was still in his system. Ralph had mentioned that it would increase his ability to stay focused ten-fold, so why not make the most of it. Shutting the door to his room behind him, Derek removed his trigonometry book from his satchel, as well as his notebook, before plopping himself down in his computer chair. Grabbing his headphones off of the desk, he slipped them onto his head and pressed play on his I-tunes play list. Cracking open his math book, Derek flipped to the correct page before setting to work on the problems his teacher had assigned for them to do that night.

Tapping his pencil to the beat of the song on the top of his notebook, he glanced at the clock in the lower right hand corner of his computer and was shocked to see that twenty minutes had gone by. But even more surprising than that was the fact that Derek was nearly done with all of the trig problems. "Holy crap," He muttered under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck in disbelief, "This stuff is amazing. Ralph is a genius."

"_I never thought those words would leave my mouth,"_ He thought to himself with a chuckle, rolling his eyes as he thought of his friend. Wait, he was mad at Ralph for talking about Casey earlier. It had pissed him off the way Ralph had talked about his step-sister in such a way. _"But why do I care what Ralph thinks about Casey? It's not like he is trying to steal my thunder,"_ Shaking his head, he absorbed himself in the rest of his trigonometry homework, giving everything else little thought.

Meanwhile downstairs, the family was finishing up their dinner in relative silence. Everyone was still curious to Derek's behavior, but no one had voiced their opinions until the end of the meal. "Can you believe Derek turned down dinner? I mean, normally he could eat all the food in Canada if given the chance-" Edwin contended before being cut off by Marti, "Especially if Canada was made of pancakes!" She interjected enthusiastically, everyone at the table laughing at her comment jovially.

"Did Derek say he was actually going to work on his homework or was I just hearing things?" Casey asked to her family, who were all scattered about downstairs, inhabiting different rooms once dinner had finished. Turning his body so it was pressed against the back of the couch, Edwin poked his head up to look over at his older step-sister, "You know, I was wondering the same thing, but like you I thought it was just a momentary lapse in my hearing. Oh well, perhaps he is pretending to be a keener to impress a girl- I mean, it seems like the only probable reason to me," He submitted lackadaisically before returning his attention to the television.

"_Something doesn't smell right here- and I don't just mean mom's casserole,"_ Casey idly mused to herself. Nodding her head in resolve, she promised herself once she finished cleaning up the table and helping Lizzie with the dishes, it was their turn after all, she would interrogate Derek and attempt to get to the bottom of this situation. If Derek was up to something, it was probably no good, and any extra ammunition she could muster on her step-brother the better it would be for her to have in her arsenal should she need to use it against him later.


End file.
